


The Roommates

by durotos



Category: Harvest Moon, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town
Genre: Awkward Roommates, Drama, Friendship, Jealousy, begrudging friendship, emotional issues, slight crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-05-07 10:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14669649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durotos/pseuds/durotos
Summary: If Gray hated one thing, it was the boring routine he had been accustomed to. If Cliff could have one wish granted, it would be to go back in time and never leave home in the first place. Two people who are used to being alone for very different reasons find themselves living under the same roof.Prequel/companion to The Shy Newcomer, but can also be read as a stand-alone piece.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I hope you enjoy! Set in the same timeline as The Shy Newcomer, but you’ll see that this story starts before then. It also works as a standalone. Without further ado, here’s the first chapter!

The middle-aged barkeep wrung out his checkered washcloth and wiped down the counter before him, paying special attention to the rings of dampness the beer steins had made. He ran a hand through his rust colored hair and sighed.  It was already eight o’clock at night, and business had been so slow that he was considering closing early; none of his regulars had even shown up yet…

The door to the inn creaked open and revealed a gloomy young man dressed in sooty khaki coveralls and a blue cap. He made his way up to Doug and slammed a fistful of coins on the counter.

Honestly, it was quite hard to tell when he was having a bad day; he had mastered his grandfather’s permanent scowl. He learned a few years ago that it was best not to ask if something was bothering Gray.  “Will it be beer or scotch tonight?”  Doug’s hands hovered over the empty drinking glasses behind the bar.

He shook his head. “Rent.”

Well, at least he wasn’t going to vent to him about a horrible day at work. Listening to complaints without judgment was part of the job, but the barkeeper found it hard to keep his mouth shut when Gray griped incessantly about his employer.  Doug was, after all, friends with Saibara and was in the agreement that the boy took criticisms of his work too personally.  He quickly counted the coins with his finger and scooped them up in his hand.  “Thank you, Gray; you’re never late with your payments.  How about a drink, on the house?”

He considered this for a moment, then nodded with a grunt and took a seat at the counter as Doug slid him a beer.

He decided it must not have been too bad of a day for him. “So, how go things at the smithy?” Doug leaned his elbows on the counter.  It was a quiet night; he normally wouldn’t attempt to make conversation with someone so unsociable.  He typically was in the kitchen filling snack orders at this time while his daughter served beverages.

Gray took a sip of the ale, indifferent to the flavor and conversation. “Same old, same old.”

“And how is your grandfather?” Doug saw him regularly, and he was a bit surprised the old man was not at the bar this evening.

“Still kicking.” Gray sounded glum.  He pulled the stein closer to him and poked the thick froth with his finger, like a child inspecting a new vegetable on his plate.  He sighed and took another drink; he wished Doug had offered him a free scotch instead, something with more of a kick to it.

“I hear that the farm to the south is still empty.” Doug said this to no one in particular as he dusted off his apron and straightened up the bottles of liquor on the shelf behind him.  He thought that there was _something_ that he was going to tell his tenant, but it drifted out of his mind as he attempted to occupy himself.

Gray snorted. “Like anyone would be dumb enough to want to live _there_.”  He took small sips of his drink out of boredom.  “Overgrown…  Shabby…”

He was more than used to the young man’s frank words; he often failed to see the bigger picture. Doug thoughtfully stroked his moustache.  “Well, we really could use a farm around here.”  He chose his words carefully.

This seemed to be a constant complaint of the older generation; Gray ceased to see why this affected him in any way. “Eh, we’ve already got Barley and Lillia,” he replied bluntly, tugging on the bill of his cap.  Why should _he_ care if Doug had to spend more on imported produce for the restaurant?

The barkeeper let out a silent sigh while his head was turned and began folding napkins. It was a task he usually left for his daughter when they had down time, but he felt the need to keep himself busy right now, lest he let his tongue slip.  “True.”  Gray was always so difficult to keep a conversation with.

A young woman bounced down the stairs and hopped onto the stool next to Gray’s.

“Hello!” Her long red braid smacked him on the shoulder. 

He tried his best not to roll his eyes, but failed miserably. “Hey, Ann…”  He went back to his beer.  It had been a long day at work and the last thing he wanted to do was entertain her.

She looked at her father, eyes sparkling. “Did you tell Gray about our new resident?”  She couldn’t understand why the two of them weren’t bouncing with excitement over the news.

Gray choked on his drink. _Someone new in town? Who on earth would choose to live here?_

“Oh, yes,” Doug set down his stack of napkins. Strangely enough, he had been so busy trying to make conversation and keep him happy that he had forgotten about the new development going on under his own roof.  “A young man about your age arrived a few hours ago.  A curious fellow, very quiet.  His name’s Clint.”

“Cliff, Dad!” Ann corrected with a giggle, swinging her feet.

Gray ceased to realize why this affected him in any way; the inn had two suites. His stomach suddenly dropped. _Unless…_

“Looks like you got a new roommate, eh, Gray?” She nudged him in the ribs, causing him to choke yet again.

_He booked the shared room? Dammit!_

He gritted his teeth and his eyes, biting back the web of obscenities that threatened to pass his lips. His perfect sanctuary of quietness had been ruined.  How was he supposed to get any reading or thinking done?  “I can hardly wait.  How long’s he staying?” _How soon is he leaving?_

“He didn’t say. He’s paying month to month.”  Doug looked uncomfortably down at the countertop and Gray wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted a second permanent tenant or if he had been afraid of his reaction.

Gray stared into his empty stein emotionlessly and felt his anger melt away. He had a couple of similar roommates in the past and he had no problem ignoring them for a few months.  “Whatever.”  This _Cliff_ would stay for a short while and leave, and things would go back to their same boring routine, as usual.  It was doubtful someone paying month to month actually intended on staying in Mineral Town for very long…

0o0o0o0

_So this is home now, I suppose…_

Cliff threw himself down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The mattress let out a loud groan in protest and he jumped in surprise.  He stood up and threw himself back down.  Another loud creak.  He adjusted himself on the bed; he had never slept on a spring mattress before, and it felt strange to him.  Surely he’d get odd looks in a town like this if he slept on the floor…

The young man unrolled his large bearskin sleeping fur and placed it on the bed. He threw himself back down on the mattress.  Another squeak.  It felt a little homier, at least.

_Maybe this could work…_

He had finished unpacking his bags a couple of hours ago, and he had headed back upstairs when people started to enter the bar. Crowds made him a little nervous, and the fact that he used to love and thrive in them depressed him a bit.  The bedroom was quiet, and the only sounds he could hear were the muffled voices downstairs in the bar.  He could enjoy the sounds of people from the safety of his own room.  It had a soothing effect on him, and it reminded him much of the way things were never really quiet at his original village.  It had always been full of songs and laughter.  Cliff pondered with a sigh if all good things must inevitably come to an end.

It had been three years since he last saw his home town. The place that had once been full of joy and life now seemed dark and empty; he was no longer wanted, and there was nothing left for him.  The only choice he had left was to leave.  So he had taken his things, strapped them to his back, and left his home once again, never looking back.  Akiyama Village could never be a home to him anymore.  And it was up to him to find a place that was worthy of being called “home” once again.

He snapped out of his reverie as he heard the door to his room squeak open, revealing his roommate.

“H-hello.” He watched him enter the room and sat up properly.  He looked around the same age as him “Pleased to meet you,” he added, bowing his head politely.

Gray nodded as by way of greeting and bit back a smirk.

 _Wow. Mountain hick._   His rural accent was as thick as his long brown hair.  Gray’s new roommate was dressed in furs and hides and was sitting on a large bearskin he had pulled over the bed.  He must be a hunter or trapper of some sort; those types never stayed at the inn for very long.  It looked as if his predictions were correct – this was definitely a short-term tenant.  He would probably leave at the end of winter to follow the herd and he would have the room to himself again; Gray let out a silent sigh of relief.

“M-my name is Cliff,” he stammered, intimidated by Gray’s cold stare.

The young man’s expression didn’t change. “I know.”

 _Alright. City folk..._   Cliff could detect his roommate’s big city inflections from those two words.  Well, that, along with the heap of random goods at the side of his bed had suggested that he had lived in a place more urban than Mineral Town for most of his life.  The traveler had been to enough villages and towns to hear all kinds of stories about people from the city.  According to several sources, they had a tendency to be short-tempered, rude, and bossy.  Cliff sincerely hoped that this young man was an exception to this.

“Th-then you must be-”

“Gray.” He tugged on the bill of his cap.

“I’m Cliff.” He replied automatically, bowing his head again.

He blinked; how socially awkward could one person be? The kid acted as if he hadn’t spoken to another person for years.  “I know; you just said that.”

Cliff could feel himself already losing favor with his roommate. “R-right,” he stammered, slouching his shoulders, avoiding the young man’s gaze.

Gray bit back a smirk; he had never seen someone look so out of place and be so keenly aware of it. What was he doing here, anyway?  “So, what brings you to a town like this?”

Cliff hesitated. He knew the question was inevitable and he might get it from others, but he wasn’t ready to answer it just yet.  Maybe moving in really wasn’t the best idea…  “I-I’m sorry…  I’d rather not go into detail, but… I-I moved out.”  He figured this would be a safe answer for now.

Gray didn’t feel like listening to a back story of someone he’d only know for a month and a half anyway. As much as he enjoyed reading and hearing about adventures, he didn’t feel the need to bother with Cliff.  He shrugged and kicked off his boots.  “That’s what I came here for, too.”

“Really?” Cliff was eager to focus the conversation on anyone but himself.

“Yeah.  I moved here a few years ago to become an apprentice blacksmith.  My Gramps owns the smithy to the south.  So I’ve been working there and using what little pay he gives me to rent out this place.”  He looked around the room with a quiet sigh, realizing what little he had to show for his wages.

That explained all of the hammers and rocks by his roommate’s bedside. Cliff shifted on his bed and jumped when it let out another loud squeak.  “I-it must be nice, working with family.”  He wistfully thought of home.  There had been good times, he reminded himself time and time again.

“No.” Gray’s voice was as hard as his eyes.

“Oh… I’m sorry…”  Cliff couldn’t help but wonder if all conversations with his new roommate were going to be so difficult and awkward.

“D-don’t get me wrong, Gramps can be okay… sometimes…” He rolled his eyes. “But you know how it can be with relatives.  Sometimes you just can’t wait to get away from them.”  He took a seat on his own bed and it let out a similar groan.  It seemed all of the beds in the room were quite noisy.

“Right.” Cliff fidgeted with his hands as a sour feeling hit the pit of his stomach. _Why had he been so eager,_ he wondered for the millionth time.

Gray nodded thoughtfully and his eyes traveled curiously over the new tenant. He looked younger than most of the other boarders.  “So, how old are you, anyway?  Nineteen?  Twenty?”

Cliff chuckled nervously and shook his head; people always thought he looked younger than he really was. He wasn’t sure if it was something about his appearance or the fact that he had made quite a few juvenile impulse decisions in his lifetime – perhaps immaturity was written all over his face.  “Twenty-three.”

“I’m twenty-six,” Gray felt obligated to answer the question as well. “Twenty-six and still just a lousy apprentice.”  He let out an exasperated sigh, throwing himself down on the mattress and it whined with him.

“S-so… What kinds of things do you do in your apprenticeship?”  The young man’s voice was hesitant, yet courteous.

Why on earth did this guy care what he did for a living? He had no intentions of returning the question.  He tugged on the bill of his cap, a little annoyed that his roommate was insisting on making empty pleasantries.  “I process metal to make ingots.”

“Ah… and what do you make the ingots into?” Cliff’s voice was slightly stilted, yet painfully folksy.

His patience was gone. “ _I_ don’t.  I make ingots.”  Gray’s voice was emotionless as shifted his position on the bed.  He couldn’t help but feel like the action in his life had come to a standstill as of late.  He reached over to a messy stack of books beside him and flipped through one, signaling the end of the conversation as he rolled to face the other side of the room.

Cliff stared down at the cover on his own bed. “Oh…”  He looked over at his own tidy stack of belongings and produced a needle and thread, eager to find something to do.  He noticed a small tear in his game bag as he was unpacking and set to work on mending it.  Cliff worked in silence; it seemed this room would probably always remain fairly quiet, and he was okay with that.

Gray attempted to read silently for a few minutes, his frustration and annoyance bubbling to the surface as he thought of his duties at the forge. “I’m not allowed to make anything important.”  The stiff words came out before he could stop them.

Gray’s sudden deep voice startled Cliff, and he jugged his finger with the needle. The young man sucked the blood off of his index finger and continued working.  He wasn’t exactly sure how to reply.  “Ingots seem pretty important…  You need them before you can make anything else,” he offered.

“I guess…” Gray sighed and turned the page in his book.

Cliff could see that the conversation was over. He rummaged through some of his clothing and found a particularly worn-out cotton tunic.  Time for another bag; he had the time tonight to work on it.  He grabbed his knife and began to cut, unaware of his roommate’s curious gaze.

“What are you making?”

Cliff looked up in surprise. “Ah, this?  A bag.”

“You can just make one freehand like that?” He tried not to look too impressed.

Cliff held up a couple of his homemade satchels, and Gray’s eyes widened. It seemed he actually looked like he actually knew what he was doing; the sacks looked well-made.  Cliff was aware of his stare and ducked his head in embarrassment.  “They’re very simple.  I’m hardly a professional tailor, but I try to reuse things,” he smiled shyly.

Gray bit back a chuckle; he was really going to have to get used to hearing that accent… “Huh… And you’re making that out of an old shirt?”  He made it look so simple…

Cliff nodded as he threaded his needle.

Gray spied a recurve bow in the corner of the room. “Seems like a weird skill for a hunter.  Kind of clashes, you know?” He sat up.

“No… I-I’m afraid I don’t follow.”  Cliff frowned and shook his head.  Sewing seemed like a pretty necessary skill for someone who collected hides and pelts to earn a living.

“Heh, if Gramps rips his clothes, he just wears it anyway. I don’t think any of the men in this town can sew.  It’s not exactly a manly skill; all of the guys either send their mending to Ellen or their wives…  Ann mends my clothes without my asking…  You make those bracers yourself?”  Gray forgot his frustrations from earlier and moved to the middle bed as he watched the young man curiously.

Cliff could see that he was paying him a compliment in his own strange way. It had been quite a while since anyone praised him.  “Yeah...”  He unlaced one and handed it to him.

Gray found that he was staring at the arm wear with envy, blind to the rare minor flaws in the stitching; he wished that he could create something with his own two hands that didn’t immediately end up in the furnace. “Eh, not bad…  Damn… What happened to your arm, man?”  His eyes flew to a jagged scar on the man’s forearm.

“Huh? Oh, this?” Cliff raised his eyebrows as he looked at the mark on his arm.  “Well, a needle and thread can be used on more than just fabric or hide, you know…  It’s a good skill to have,” he said a little more confidently, but still avoided that pale blue gaze.

He tugged on his hat and let out a grunt in appreciation. “That’s pretty badass.  Disgusting, but badass…”  Gray’s eyes widened at the scar.  “How did you manage to get that?”

Cliff blushed with embarrassment; he hardly had an impressive story to tell for it. “I was stupid enough to reach my arm into a badger’s den when I was a teenager…  My sister patched me up.”

“Yeah, that _is_ pretty stupid,” Gray let out a gruff laugh, and his roommate jumped a little.  He leaned forward in excitement, his mind whirling with stories to tell him.  “Hey, you wanna hear stupid?  When I was little, I touched some cooling ingots and burned off part of my thumbprint.”  He stuck out his thumb at him, eager to show off his own scar.

Cliff leaned forward to look at it and winced; it still looked pretty nasty to him. “Did it hurt?”

He shrugged in response. “Heck if I remember.”  He tossed the bracer on his companion’s bed, giving it one last appreciative glance.  “I was really young when it happened; I don’t remember.”

Cliff thoughtfully removed his other bracer, setting them both in a tidy stack beside him. “So you must have visited here as a child then?”

Gray was surprised he remembered Gray wasn’t born in this town. He wasn’t very used to people actually listening to what he had to say.  Granted, he never really gave them much of a reason to try with all of the griping he did…  “Yeah, my parents took me to see Gramps regularly.  We’d go to the ranch and I’d play with the horses…  Hey, I get to work there sometimes to shoe the horses,” his face lit up.  “That’s actually my favorite part of my job.”

“Animals make great companions.” He nodded in agreement as he finished stitching his bag.

“Yeah, I think I understand the horses at the ranch better than I understand humans. I definitely prefer their company over most people, no offense.” Gray gave his roommate a wave of the hand.

“None taken,” Cliff thought of his own companion waiting for him and was eager for morning.

Gray found the beginnings of a smile spreading across his face. An hour ago, he wouldn’t have imagined himself saying this aloud.  “Hey, you’re not bad, Cliff.”

The young man’s heart swelled; he hadn’t heard approval from anyone in such a long time, and he wasn’t sure how to react. “Ah… Thanks…  You too…?”  He reddened; he was sure his reaction had been awkward.

He got a soft chuckle in response. “It’s getting pretty late.  Mind if I hit the lights?”

“Not at all,” Cliff untied his hair and threw himself down on the loud springy bed. He listened to his companion shuffle around in the dark. _Maybe this place can be a home_ …  He looked out the window at the moon; it felt so strange to be sleeping indoors again. _Maybe I can belong somewhere again…_ His heart filled with joy and a little bit of fear at the very thought of it.

“Hey, Cliff?” He heard a gruff voice on the opposite side of the room.  “Welcome to Mineral Town, by the way.”


	2. The First Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliff struggles to adjust not sleeping on the floor and Gray isn't sure why his grandfather cares that someone new is living with him.

Cliff woke up early the next morning to his roommate’s loud snoring. Living outside, one needed to be a light sleeper in case of bears, coyotes, or wildcats.  This new noise would take a little getting used to.  He rolled out of bed.  He looked out the window; it looked like the momentary winter thaw was still in effect.  Only a fool would try to sleep in on a day like this.  He quickly got dressed and grabbed his lantern and a few satchels, being careful to keep them from jingling too loudly.  He crept past his roommate and let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t awakened Gray as he closed the door to the bedroom.

“Ah, another early riser, just like me. Good morning, Cliff!”  Ann waved at him with her broom.  “I trust you slept well?” A large smile had cracked across the redhead’s face.

“Ha!” He jumped in surprise; her energy was startling, to say the least.  “G-good morning…  I slept fine, thank you.” _Well, as fine as one could in a foreign bed…_

“It’s only a little after five-thirty. Are you headed out already?” She stared at him curiously as she shifted her broom onto her shoulder.  She studied him carefully, as if gazing at him long enough would reveal his hidden secrets.

Cliff nodded, avoiding eye contact with the girl. His face felt hot from the knowledge that those large blue eyes were locked onto him.

“Well, Dad is still asleep. If you want, I can make you some breakfast!”

“N-no thank you…” he politely shook his head as he sidled past her and hurried down the stairs. He hoped he didn’t come off as rude…

“Okay, see you later!” she spoke with incredible volume for such an early hour as she resumed her sweeping.

_Why was she so loud in the morning?_

Cliff reached into his pack and pulled out a strip of dried meat, chewing on it as he walked to the abandoned farm to the south. A river ran along the property, and it was a decent fishing spot.  He found a straight branch and quickly began sharpening it to a point with his hunting knife.  He wanted to catch at least a few fish before the sun rose and he didn’t know how much longer this thaw was going to last.

The fish were active this morning, and the young man easily caught a few. He must have slept well, he realized.  His hand was much steadier this morning than it had been in weeks.  Perhaps the hot meal Doug and Ann had offered him yesterday had helped as well; he had been _so_ hungry lately...  Cliff grabbed his things and hurried to the spring mine.

Last night, he had taken advantage of the shower at the inn, but he found he didn’t care for it too much. He was used to bathing in the hot springs here, but there was no time for a break today.  He lit his lantern and headed into the cave.

_Home._

At least that’s what it had been for the past couple of months. He reached a clearing where he had laid out a spare deerskin and some lanterns.  He lit the oil lamps, illuminating the dim living space.

“I’m home, Cain!” His voice echoed through the mine.  He heard a cheerful chirp in reply and saw his partner hopping on a stalagmite, his tether jingling.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you, but I don’t think they’d be too keen on me bringing a falcon into their inn,” he explained to the bird. “I got you some breakfast though.  You hungry?” he pulled on his gauntlet and held out a small fish.

His falcon quickly fluttered to his arm and accepted the treat with hungry gulps.

“Alright, calm down, boy. We’re going to get some hunting in today, don’t worry.  You think there are any rabbits or squirrels left out there?” he asked, looking out the entrance of the cave.  Cain stared at him blankly, and Cliff frowned at him.  “No?  Well, we’re going to try anyway.  We can’t get discouraged.  I actually have a pretty good feeling about this town,” he insisted as he fastened bells to the raptor’s ankles and removed the tether.

“Today is our chance to make up for lost time,” Cliff continued as they headed outside. “Anything you can find, boy.  Anything helps, you know that.  Today’s the first day of our new life, after all…” he sent the bird off and watched his powerful wings beat against the periwinkle morning sky.

“I know I’ve said that many times before, Cain, but... _this_ is different…” he murmured, staring at the sunrise.

0o0o0o0

Gray groaned as he hit the snooze button once again on his alarm clock.

“Get up already, you bum! You’re gonna be late!” a perky yet muffled voice yelled through the door.

Living at the inn meant he had an unofficial little sister in Ann McKinley, an overly peppy snoop and clean freak who asked him too many questions about Mary and constantly nagged him about his laundry.

“No, I’m not!” he grumbled, but realized he was awake enough that it was pointless to try resting his eyes for a few more minutes. He stumbled over to the light switch and flicked it on. 

“Oh, sorry, man!” He had already forgotten that he was sharing a room.  His eyes moved to the far bed.  It was empty and made up already.  “Huh…”  Gray shrugged and got dressed for breakfast.

As he left the room, he found that Ann had been preparing for an ambush. “About time!” she snatched the cap off of his head and bounced down the stairs.  Gray rolled his eyes and followed.

“Do we really have to do this every morning?” he sighed, walking up to the bar.

“It’s not _every_ morning,” Ann giggled, wagging a finger playfully, “just mornings when you hit the snooze button too much.”

“And what are you doing right outside my door that you can hear my alarm clock?” Gray plopped down at a bar stool, cursing under his breath.

She grabbed a broom from behind the counter and swung it expertly like a bo staff. “Sweeping!  Gotta keep the place clean!  Speaking of, I need your laundry this morning!” she reminded him, cracking the broom handle loudly on the bar counter.

“Go get it yourself; I left it on the floor,” he grumbled as Doug passed him his usual black coffee. He was hardly in the mood for Ann’s antics this morning.

“Oh, I think I’ll just be keeping this today!” Ann put the baseball cap on her own head and pulled her braid through the back.  “It looks better on me anyway!”  She turned her nose up at him and flounced to the kitchen.

Gray gritted his teeth and took a swig of coffee. He didn’t want to even look at her until after he had finished his second cup.

0o0o0o0

He was grateful he didn’t have to use a punch card at work; the young man was consistently a few minutes late every morning. Thankfully, the old man was so groggy himself that he failed to notice this.  “’Morning,” Gray pulled on his thick leather gloves and went straight to work.

“’Mornin’,” a gruff voice from behind the forge grumbled in response.

He gathered a bucket of loose ore. “So, what is it today?  Iron again?”

“Bingo,” his grandfather replied, hammering loudly at his anvil.

Gray threw the loose pieces of metal into the cauldron and watched them melt; this was his favorite part: seeing the shiny nuggets turn into smooth liquid – something old was turning into something new.

“So, anything new at the inn?” Saibara’s voice caught his grandson by surprise.

He found the question rather curious, as his grandfather rarely spoke before noon. Gray had simply inherited this trait from him – neither were morning people, and neither had any shame in admitting it.  The young man shrugged, reciting his usual response.  “Same old, same old.”

Saibara’s dark eyes flashed to his apprentice and quickly focused back on his work. “Huh…  Doug said there’s a new fella staying with you.”

Gray had been so busy battling over getting his hat back from Ann that morning that he had practically forgotten that he was sharing his room with someone now. “Oh, yeah.  Mountain boy,” the apprentice answered with a roll of his eyes, tossing more metal in the cauldron.  “I give him two months tops.”  He smirked, but it quickly faded; saying that aloud actually made him feel kind of sad.  He couldn’t remember the last time he actually had a good time talking to someone other than Mary.

“Doug says he’s a proper young gentleman.” Saibara didn’t look up from his work, and as usual, his face had no expression to it.  It was nearly impossible to tell what the old man had on his mind most of the time, but Gray had an idea of where he was headed with this…

H remembered the profuse bowing and the excessive thanking and apologizing; the kid did have some odd quirks. “Eh, I guess.”  He didn’t want to overemphasize anything, after all.

“Around your age?”

Saibara sure was chatty this morning… Gray grunted an affirmative reply as he sorted through ore pieces.  He now saw where this was going and he bit the inside of his lip.

“Well, our town could use more young folk with manners,” Saibara responded.

He frowned, taking this as an insult. The old blacksmith had no qualms about telling him every single flaw he saw in him.  Obviously he was calling Gray rude.  The young man cleared his throat.  “Well, he’s kind of annoying, and I doubt he’s going to stick around anyway,” he spat, tugging on the bill of his cap.  He suddenly didn’t feel so bad that he would be sharing a room with Cliff for a short time.

“I think we’ll stop by the inn to see him this evening,” the old man smirked. “I’d like to meet him before he leaves.”

“ _We_?”  He was sure Saibara was not referring to the royal “we”.  “Why do I have to get involved at all?”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, or are your manners really that bad?” His voice lacked emotion as he continued to hammer away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I tried to make my Gray and Cliff combinations from the different games I’ve played with them in it. As you can tell, they both have some pretty heavy HM64 characteristics, along with (M)FoMT. I hope you enjoyed it so far.


	3. The First Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet drink shared between Gray and Saibara becomes much more interesting as Cliff returns to the inn.

It was a busy night at Doug’s place. Basil and Duke were busy at a table, tossing back wine, pretending to comment on the dark, subtle fruity notes and the selective breeding process for the varieties of grapes.  They weren’t doing a good job of masking the fact that they were both pretty drunk and that neither of their comments on their intended subjects were making much sense.  When Ann approached the table to fill an order, Duke slurred about what a lovely lady the waitress had grown to become and he asked her if she thought that his own daughter might have turned out just as sweet as her.  Ann’s father swiftly stepped in and offered Duke a glass of water and something to eat, sending his daughter back to the kitchen.

Gray rolled his eyes as he pulled out a chair and sat down. Duke was a middle-aged man and he still didn’t have a handle on his own life.  The fact that his daughter had run away years ago still haunted him regularly, and Duke was constantly brooding on what could have been.  Gray tugged on the bill of his hat.  He may still be an apprentice at twenty-six, but at least he didn’t have children to worry about.  Moreover, any family problems he had weren’t his own fault…  He frowned; he always had a hard time convincing himself that.  A familiar wave of guilt rose up in his stomach as he relived that day over in his head once again…

“Doug, have you seen the new kid?” Saibara asked the bartender as he plopped down in the chair across from his grandson.

He rubbed his ginger moustache thoughtfully as he swiftly set out a couple of napkins for them. “Hmm…  You know, I haven’t seen him all day.  He’s awfully quiet.  Ann, you see him?” Doug looked over at his daughter, who he knew had already crept out of the kitchen again.  She couldn’t stand being away from the excitement of a full house, regardless of the guests comparing her to their runaway daughters.

She had carried a small bowl of peanuts from the kitchen and was munching on them noisily. “I saw him early this morning and he was headed out with some bags,” she replied, spraying chewed nuts on the table in front of her.  Saibara stared at her with interest while Gray’s eyebrows furrowed at the mess she made; Ann could be such a hypocrite sometimes about tidiness.  She caught his incredulous glare and swallowed her food, quickly wiping the table clean and giving him a glare of her own as she did so.  “Maybe he was out shopping or something,” she stated as an afterthought.

Doug ignored the drama between the two. “It’s going on seven, Ann,” he sighed.  “I doubt he’s been on a shopping spree for that long.  Besides, he doesn’t really strike me as the ‘shopping type’.”  If anything, he figured that the newest tenant was probably filling those bags with something to sell – he looked like the type that lived off of the land.

She shrugged. “I dunno…  So, what do you guys want to drink?”  Ann changed the subject, giving the old blacksmith a friendly wink.

“Two hot sakes. For me and the boy.”  Saibara didn’t look up at her.

She was used to his brusque exterior and knew far better than to take it personally.  “Alright.  Be right back!”  She bounced off.

“Well, I better switch Duke to grape juice before things get ugly,” Doug gave the pair a strained smile as he headed back to the bar.

The two relatives sat in silence for a few moments before Gray shyly wrung his hands. “Uh… th-thanks for the drink, Gramps…”  He was surprised, to say the least.

He was met with a grunt in reply. Gray couldn’t recall a time when he had ever heard his grandfather say “You’re welcome,” but then again, he didn’t use the phrase himself.  “See?  It’s not hard to do something polite for someone else,” Saibara’s voice was gruff.  “Try it sometime.”

Gray rolled his eyes. He should have known better; his acts of kindness were never truly free.  He hated how his grandfather’s mood seemed to shift straight to crotchety as soon as the two of them were alone.  Gray wasn’t particularly looking forward to their evening together when Saibara got in these moods of his. 

Gray looked up from the table’s surface and he saw Cliff enter the bar with several bags slung over his shoulders and a grin on his face. His cheeks were rosy with exertion, and there were twigs and pine needles in his sweaty hair.  Cliff’s ponytail was falling loose and his coat hung open, revealing his disheveled tunic underneath.  Gray smirked; he’d let Saibara see what he thought of his ‘proper young gentleman’ of a roommate now.

“Hey, Cliff!” his face lit up as he gave him a friendly wave, beckoning him to come over.

He stood frozen in shock for a moment as he saw that he had a companion with him and would have to introduce himself. “Oh!  G-Good evening!” He nervously stepped toward them, his large eyes widening slightly from the loud, crowded room.

“Hey, Cliff, this is my grandfather, Saibara,” he cocked his head toward the old man with a slight smirk playing at his lips.

“Ah, pl-pleased to meet you!” Cliff nervously gave him a bow and a few pine needles tumbled to the floor from his head and shoulders. “Ah!  S-sorry!” he stammered, embarrassed at his unkempt state for an introduction; he had intended on heading straight upstairs for the shower.

“Gramps, this is Cliff, my new roommate.” Gray found it quite impossible to bite back the self-indulgent smile that was spreading across his face.

The old man stood up, his face expressionless as he stared at his grandson. He turned toward Cliff.  “There’s no need to apologize, young man,” he bowed deeply.  “I see that you must have been working very hard today.  Are you employed?”

He shook his head and silently cursed himself as a couple more pine needles fell onto the tablecloth. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  “No, sir…  I-I was just gathering some things during the thaw before it got difficult to fish again.”  He sheepishly brushed them onto the floor, praying neither of the two had seen the mess he’d made.

Saibara could see the nervousness in the newcomer and pretended not to notice his awkwardness. “Ah, it’s important to keep working hard.”  He grinned as Ann returned with their drinks.  She gave Cliff a silent smile and friendly wave as she headed back to the bar.  “A strong work ethic is important in a young man, Gray.  Please take note.”

His apprentice bit his tongue; of course Saibara had to make this into a twisted kind of torture for him.

The elderly man gestured toward the chair between him and his grandson. “Please take a seat with us, Mr. …?”

“Y-Yamamoto,” Cliff bowed again. “Cliff Yamamoto.”

“Ah. Well, met, Mr. Yamamoto.  Saibara Iwata.”  He returned the bow.

Gray rolled his eyes as Saibara waited for Cliff to take a seat first. His grandfather was never this formal at home.

Cliff hesitantly sat down; he smelled strongly of campfire and smoked wood.  “P-Please, just call me Cliff,” he insisted as he smoothed down the fur lining on his coat.  It, like the rest of his appearance, had become unkempt throughout the day and the white fur stuck out in every which direction as if he had come into contact with static shock.

“Then you may refer to me as Saibara.” A kind smile was thrown in his direction, and he was eager to start up a conversation. “So, Cliff, I can smell that you’ve caught some fish and smoked them.”

He nodded his brown head, grateful that he was leading the dialogue. The intimidating old man had the air of one who was not to be trifled with, and he wanted to make a good first impression.  “Yes…  They keep for quite a while that way.”  He carefully placed his bags on the floor with a weak smile.

“I can’t help but notice that you don’t have a rod.”

His cheeks turned from pink to red. He wished that Saibara hadn’t been observing him so closely; he was well aware that he was a mess.  “Oh, I use spears,” Cliff gave him a polite nod, trying his best to ignore the fact that he just pulled a small twig out of his hair.  “Well, sharpened sticks, really…”  He admitted sheepishly as he shoved the plant material in his pocket.

“What do you sharpen them with?” Saibara asked, taking a sip of sake. “Surely you have a blade?”

Cliff stared at him curiously. No one had ever taken such an active interest in him before…

Gray groaned; he saw where this was going. Of course it was going to be a sales pitch!  He felt a swift wave of relief.  For a brief moment, it almost seemed as if Saibara was genuinely very curious about his roommate’s activities and habits.  Why relief was the emotion that came to him, Gray was not sure.  He never questioned emotions; his gut never steered him wrong in the past.  “Gramps, I think the kid is broke,” he sighed.  “You’re wasting your time,” he added frankly.

The old man set down his glass silently and stared at his grandson. Gray’s hair stood up on end at the icy glare.  Apparently his gut _was_ capable of error…  “Let’s take a look at your knife, Cliff.”  He didn’t turn away from Gray.

Cliff’s eyes widened in fear as they shifted back and forth between the relatives. He was a little nervous to hand a weapon to one of them, but he was even more terrified to disobey the old man.  He reached into his pocket with trembling hands and produced a blade with a leather sheath, too afraid to see what Gray’s response was to his traitorous behavior.

Saibara handled the tool as if it were a holy relic. He removed the cover from the knife and his eyes lit up as they traveled across the length of the tool.  “Ah.  Fine steel.  A nice blade, but a bit battle-worn, wouldn’t you agree?”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” the young man laughed nervously, taking the opportunity to smooth down his hair a bit while Saibara’s eyes were focused on his knife. He looked back up at him and Cliff reddened, placing his hands in his lap.

“How about I rebalance this blade for you? I can do a rush job and have it ready for you by the end of tomorrow.  I can see that this knife is very special to you.”  Cliff smiled shyly at Saibara’s offer.  The elderly blacksmith’s words had a warmth to them that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

As a matter of fact, Gray hadn’t heard that warmth in eons himself. His stomach twisted with jealousy as he poured himself another sake.  He drank half of the small glass in one go, relishing in the burning sensation that followed; at least it allowed him to focus on something else other than his stupid emotions and the idiots who were sharing a table with him.

“You’d really do that for me? B-but…  Gray’s right…” he frowned as he wrung his hands anxiously.  He hadn’t had his knife worked on in a long time, and it was in dire need of attention.  After all, if he didn’t have his knife, he had nothing…  But he had very little money.  Cliff’s eyes traveled hopefully toward his satchels sitting on the floor.  Saibara was the one to bring up the smoked fish; perhaps he liked it.  He straightened his posture a bit.  “Would you be open to a trade?” he asked courteously.

Gray smirked and bit back a laugh; his grandfather only ever accepted cash up front, and he always charged extra for rush jobs. He took a taste of his drink.  Things were about to get interesting.

“Let’s see your fish,” Saibara took another sip of sake as the he fumbled with his game bag.

 _Wait, what?!_ Gray’s jaw dropped.  The notion that the old man would accept anything other than cold, hard cash before starting the job was startling to him.Why was he making a special case for someone he had only just met?  Saibara was too stingy to cut a deal with the local woodcutter, and they drank tea together regularly!

“Please accept this large trout in exchange,” Cliff humbly offered a bundle with outstretched hands and a bowed head. Gray almost laughed aloud at the exaggerated gesture.

“Ah. One is not enough, young man, surely you know that.”  Saibara poured himself some more sake with an emotionless expression.

A grin broke across Gray’s face. He was eager to see Cliff mess up, and he had started to fall down a slippery slope that would leave him in his grandfather’s disfavor.  It was satisfying to see someone else not meet the old man’s ridiculous standards, and maybe they’d have something to complain about together.  It wasn’t the fact that Gray wasn’t polite; it was that Saibara was unreasonable.  He jumped when he heard a sudden noise from his grandfather. 

It was laughter.

“Of course, a true man who takes pride in his work knows when to haggle,” Saibara cackled, a mischievous grin spreading across his mouth. He leaned in toward Cliff and gave him a conspiratorial wink.  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”  He gave him a rough nudge and laughed harder.

“Oh, was I too obvious?” Cliff chuckled, blushing as a sheepish grin appeared on his face.

Gray’s smile fell as he stared back and forth between his tablemates. Was he missing something?  Everything he knew about his grandfather had just gone right out the window.  Where was the stubborn, sullen, surly old man that only knew the word “no”?  And who was this strange guy that brought out this odd behavior in him?  He hardly listened as the two haggled back and forth swiftly.

“Four fish,” Saibara laughed.

“Two.” Cliff’s voice was polite, yet firm.  He wasn’t going to let himself be bullied into more than what was fair.

The fish looked tasty and he wanted as much as he was going to be allowed. “Two plus that small one over there.”  Saibara pointed with the knife at the specimens he wanted.

Cliff shook his head. The two fish he had selected were the largest, and he had initially gone out to find food for himself.  He had no intentions on living off of the food at the inn, as delicious as it was; he had a budget to maintain.  Cliff gestured toward the fish.  “How about that fat one over there, this medium one, and the small one?  They’re all good trout, caught this afternoon.  They’re all salted and smoked,” he assured the old man as he gave him a friendly nod.

It seemed to be a reasonable offer. He wasn’t particularly fond of cooking, so ready-to-eat foods like these were his favorite to have on hand.  “Alright, you’ve got a deal,” Saibara sheathed the knife as Cliff bundled up the fish with a thin strip of hide.

Cliff was grateful that the trade had gone well. He was hardly a stranger to haggling, but some people were harder to win over than others, and he wanted to keep the possibility of a future trade available.  “You’re the one who got the deal,” he laughed playfully.  “I’ve been eyeing up that fat trout all day.”

Saibara had no uncertainty about that; the young man looked like he could stand to gain a few pounds. However, he felt no guilt over the bargain he had got.  Saibara took pride in his work, and it was well worth the price Cliff had paid in fish.  “Well, once your blade is done, you’ll be happy,” he cackled with a friendly grin.

“Oh, I have no doubt that I will – having the right tools in good shape makes all the difference,” Cliff thoughtfully put away his fish bundles.

Saibara looked up at him with shining eyes. He had never met a young man who had the same ideals as him.  His grandson could learn a lot from this kid.  Perhaps a new roommate was just what he needed.  “Exactly.”

Gray drained his cup and drank straight from his sake flask; he had never hated someone so much so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Well, now we have the origin of Cliff and Saibara’s friendship and the feud it has caused between Gray and Cliff. I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think of the story so far!


	4. Hot and Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fiasco at the bar, things only get more strained and awkward as the night goes on...

Gray knocked over a stack of books by his bed as he pulled off his work boots and chucked them at the wall.  They left a couple of dusty footprints on the wooden paneling, but he didn’t care.  He cursed under his breath as he threw himself down on his old mattress, the piece of furniture letting out a loud groan as he did so.

There was no way on earth he was going back downstairs tonight, not that anyone even noticed or cared that he had come up here in the first place…

After his roommate had struck a bargain with his grandfather, Saibara had insisted on ordering Cliff a drink.  He had shyly asked for a glass of milk, and the old man was only happy to oblige.  Gray had tried to join in on the fun by chiding him for ordering milk at a bar, and had only been met with a nervous chuckle from him and a sour look from his grandfather.  Saibara and Cliff had been downstairs laughing together like they were old friends for the last two hours.  Gray couldn’t stand any more of it and had slipped away while Saibara was in the middle of the punch line to his favorite joke.

And here he was upstairs, trying to figure out what to say to his new rival, if anything at all.

Who did Cliff think he was, anyway?  He was shy and a little bit awkward, but he had seemed friendly enough to Gray the night before; heck, he had even kind of liked him.  Now whenever Gray thought of him, all he wanted to do was punch something.

_Preferably Cliff’s face._

Gray had lived in Mineral Town for over three years and he was still starving for a shred of respect from the old man.  Saibara had impossibly high standards that Gray was just never able to meet.  How could it be, then, that this stranger could show up and impress him within mere minutes of their meeting?  It was enough to make Gray’s blood boil.  He clenched his fists and his jaw, fighting the urge to break something.

He looked up when he heard the door creak open.  A smiling Cliff entered the room.

_Smug little bastard…_

“W-well, that was pretty fun.”  He tried to make conversation as he took his sacks of fish off of his back and placed them on the table.  The satchels and bags tumbled into a clumsy pile and Gray found himself gritting his teeth; he often used that table to read in the evenings.  Was Cliff just going to label _everything_ as his?  “Your grandfather is a very interesting man.” 

He sorted through his things and the smell of smoked fish filled the room.  It was a pleasant scent, but Gray was not used to smelling food where he slept.  This room already had its reserved odors – machine oil and coal, along with the fragrance of freshly cleaned linens when Ann made her rounds.  His discontentment grew.

Gray remained silent.  He wasn’t sure what to say in response; Cliff’s voice was friendly, but he sounded a little unsure of himself.  _Good_ , Gray thought.  _He shouldn’t feel too comfortable after the way he acted down there…_

Cliff was aware of his companion’s posture – clenched fists with veins popping, a furrowed brow, and squared shoulders – he had seen it more often than he wanted to admit during his travels.  This was the look he was given when people seemed exasperated with the fact that Cliff existed, often just before he was told to get out of town.  Terrified at the notion of being ordered to leave, his eyes widened as he wrung his hands.  “D-do you like smoked fish, too?” he asked hesitantly.  “I-I made quite a bit if you’d like some.  H-here, please take this one.”  He shifted through the bundles with shaking hands, eager to win back his roommate’s favor.

 _So, he had a good time with Saibara and was only now realizing how shitty and left out he made me feel.  He thinks he can trade me fish in exchange for Gramps?_   Gray folded his arms across his chest and refused to be patronized.  He remained silent.

The ticking of the clock was deafening; Gray was too angry to pretend to be anything but.  He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall as he waited for Cliff to make his move.

“I-I’m sorry if we made you feel left out,” he finally stammered.  “Please, feel free to have any fish as an apology.  I-I want us to start out on the right foot…”  He nearly dropped a parcel out of nervousness as he searched for the nicest looking one to offer.

Gray turned around and glared at him.  He would have liked it better if his roommate would have talked back or at least shown some sort of backbone.  Cliff was like a beaten puppy, aching for acceptance from anyone – it was pathetic.  It was apparent that he had intended on saving those fish for himself.  Based on the conversation Gray had bothered to listen to, it sounded like he was living solely off of the land.  He really wanted to avoid a confrontation with him that badly?  Gray refused to believe it.  Besides, he had no use for a brown-noser.

Gray said nothing, but let his eyes do the talking.

Cliff wasn’t a stranger to hostile glares, but it seemed as though he had practiced his scowl for years and the look in Gray’s icy blue eyes made him fall silent.  He hesitantly put away his bundles of fish, aware that the offered gift was unwelcome.  He knew when he wasn’t wanted, and he wasn’t going to hang around until he was asked to leave permanently.  Seeing his roommate in this state made him uneasy.  He took one of his bags and slung it over his shoulder.

“I-I’ll be outside…” Cliff silently cursed himself as his voice cracked.  He pulled on his coat before he changed his mind.

“Are you asking for permission?” Gray laughed bitterly.

His words cut deeply, but Cliff quickly swallowed down his feelings for the moment.  He slipped his room key into his pocket and said nothing in response to this as he silently pulled on his shoes.  “I’ll be back in a few hours.”  This time, his voice was steady and lacked emotion.

 _Like I give a shit how long he’s gone.  I hope he doesn’t bother to come back…_   “I hope you’re not expecting a welcoming party when you get back or anything,” Gray didn’t look up at him.

Cliff said nothing in reply as he left, and he realized this only made him angrier.  He gritted his teeth as his roommate gently closed the door behind him.  Gray would have much preferred Cliff slam it, or at least have said something in anger as he left.

He could hear Ann’s voice echo in the hallway.  “Where are you going, Cliff?  It’s going on ten o’clock!”

“Ah, I’m just g-going for a nighttime stroll,” Gray could hear the forced cheerfulness in his voice.  “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He could tell her eyes must be bugging out of her head based on the tone of her voice.  “There are wild dogs out there, though!  You could get hurt.”

“I’ll be f-fine, I’ve got my…” there was an awkward pause and Gray could only assume Cliff had remembered he left his knife with Saibara.  “I’ll be fine,” he repeated.

“Alright…” Ann didn’t sound thoroughly convinced.

“G-good evening.”  Gray could hear the young man’s bag jingle as he walked away.

0o0o0o0

Cliff dumped a bucket of water over his head and scrubbed his brown locks, letting out a sigh.  His misty breath fogged into the chilly winter air.  Maybe he _did_ belong outside after all; perhaps the whole idea of renting a room at the inn was stupid.  Why did he think he belonged with people again, anyway?  It was obvious his own roommate couldn’t stand him after just one day…

He shivered as he looked up at the clouds that were obscuring the moon.  The temperature had dropped as rapidly as the sun did.  The ground was already frozen again, and a layer of frost decorated the grass.  It really wasn’t ideal weather for being outside while naked and wet.  He washed the mud and sweat off of his body, his teeth chattering as he did so.  He rinsed off and climbed into the hot springs, the chilled soles of his feet burning as they hit the water.

It wasn’t as if he had never lived outside in the winter; he had done it since he was a clumsy seventeen-year-old, eager to live his life his own way.

 _A lot of good that stunt has done for me,_ he thought bitterly as he sank down into the spring, his long hair floating on the water’s surface.  It truly was a gorgeous winter evening.  The silvery frost covering the ground sparkled in the dappled moonlight and the bare branches of the surrounding trees swayed slightly in the gentle breeze.  He stared at the billowy clouds of steam rising from the rippling water and felt a familiar ache in his chest.  Cliff was too distracted by his emotions to fully take in the beautiful scenery that surrounded the spring. 

He could leave.  He could go back to his room, gather his things, and ask Doug how much money he could get back from his deposit.  He could stop by the blacksmith’s place and ask for his knife back and let him keep the fish as a thank-you for his kindness.  He and Cain could be back on the trail by tomorrow morning…

The young man shook his head.

That had become such a natural response for him over the past few years – run away, start fresh.  He had experienced so many “new beginnings” that it had become a torturous cycle of heartache, and he had started to numb himself to the emotions tied with it. 

Still, he fought with himself.  What was he thinking, getting friendly with anyone?  He had been kidding himself, thinking he could have a real home again…  Obviously things couldn’t continue the way they were with Gray.  Cliff frowned.

Maybe he just would stop speaking to him – it seemed Gray would probably be fine with that.  But how was anyone supposed to share a room without ever speaking to their roommate?  What was the point of living in town at all?  What did he truly want, solitude or friendship?

Cliff’s throat tightened and he sank deeper into the water.  His heart ached.  All he had ever wanted his entire life was to be accepted.  Even back at home he didn’t belong, and now he couldn’t go back even if he wanted to.  Fitting in seemed to come so naturally to others.  As he traveled from town to town, he wasn’t blind to the way people saw him.  He had heard the words mouthed, whispered, shouted.

 _Outsider,_ _stranger, vagabond, drifter, hobo…_

He had heard all of them throughout the years, and the fact that they would never see him as part of their society never hurt any less with time.  Most of the people and merchants he actually spoke with didn’t even bother to ask his name.  They simply traded their goods and hurried back to town without so much as a thank you.  Perhaps these interactions with people hurt the most; he wondered if he could ever be seen as one of them.

Cliff pulled himself out of the water and dried off.  He was immediately reminded of the winter chill, but it was nothing he was unfamiliar with.

Doug and Ann had asked for his name when he moved in, he reminded himself as he slowly got dressed with the fresh set of clothes he brought with him.  Saibara had asked for his name.  Things were different here, he realized.

Things had to work out.  He was tired of running away.

Cliff’s eyes moved to the entrance of the mine by the spring.  He had promised Cain that this time would be different.  He had let so many people down throughout the years, but he would not break the trust of his partner this time.

No more second chances.  He would make this work.

0o0o0o0

There was a soft knock at the door.  Gray looked up from the book he was pretending to read.

“Who’s there?”  If Cliff forgot his key, Gray was more than willing to let him sleep in the hallway.  Doug was probably busy tending to customers downstairs, and Gray highly doubted that Cliff had the nerve to ask the innkeeper to let him in his own room.

“Who do you think it is, dummy?” Despite her chiding, Ann’s voice wasn’t as perky as it usually was.

The young man looked up from his book with a groan of exasperation.  Why did everyone have to be so annoying today?  “What do you want?”

“I’ve got your clean laundry, you dork!  Let me in!”  He could hear her softly kicking the door in impatience.

Gray knew she’d continue until she got her way.  That was the way things always were with Ann.  He sighed as he stood up and unlocked the door.  It flung open and nearly hit him in the face; he swiftly stepped to the side to avoid a broken nose.  She didn’t apologize for her behavior, but instead flounced into the room carrying a heaping basket of laundry.

“Uh, good evening…?” His greeting came out as a question.  Ann prided herself on her cheerfulness and to see her act so out of character was a little unsettling.  “Why don’t you come in?” he asked sarcastically as she pushed past him.

The redhead plopped down on the unoccupied middle bed and poured out her laundry basket.  She quickly began separating the shirts from the pants and socks in a very businesslike manner.

“You don’t have to fold tonight.  It’s fine where it is,” Gray pulled his cap over his eyes.  He had a feeling Ann was not in a good mood tonight.  That, coupled with his own poor mood, was a recipe for disaster – he knew from experience.

She ignored him as she continued to work.  “I know you don’t care if your clothes are wrinkled, but I do,” Ann retorted, deftly folding a shirt and adding it to the empty basket.

He searched for a deeper meaning in her words, but he could find none; the young woman seemed incredibly focused on his laundry.  He could feel an argument brewing.  “Look, tonight’s not a good night for this, okay?” Gray grumbled.

Ann said nothing, but stubbornly continued folding laundry.  The strain in the room increased tenfold.

Gray wasn’t about to play the peacemaker, and he had no intentions of backing down.  “Fine.  Don’t expect any conversation from me.”  He threw himself down on his bed and stared at his book.  The tension in the room was horrible; she let out a sigh each time she added a folded article of clothing to the basket.  It was impossible to focus on his novel.  He read the same paragraph five times before slamming the book shut in frustration.  “What do you want, Ann?” he struggled to keep his voice level.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk,” she pouted, adding a folded pair of trousers to the basket as she avoided eye contact.

He’d give anything for her to leave or, at the very least, talk to him.  “Well, you’re driving me crazy.  Say something.”

He was a little surprised that she complied with his order.  She set down a shirt and paused folding for a moment.  “Doesn’t it seem a little odd to go for a walk outside on a cold night like this?” Her eyes locked onto Gray’s.

He knew very well what Ann was getting at.  The conflict was unavoidable at this point.  He wasn’t exactly cheery this evening himself; he decided to yank at Ann’s chain a bit to relieve his own frustrations.  He shrugged.  “That’s why I’m indoors tonight,” he scoffed.

“It’s not always about _you_ , you know!” Ann rolled a pair of socks together and threw them as hard as she could into the basket.

Gray said nothing.  He was about to laugh, but she was rarely this direct when they argued.  The whole interaction caught him a bit off guard and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

She continued as she took another shirt and folded it carefully, adding it to the top of the heap.  “I saw you throw your silent tantrum downstairs, you know.  The least you could do is make someone feel welcome.”  Ann’s voice leveled out as she waited for him to explain himself.

The apprentice clenched his teeth.  “Why should I?  He’s the one who…”  Gray’s voice trailed off.

_He’s the one who impressed Gramps tonight, not me…_

Apparently this was not the response she was looking for.  “We’re trying to run a business, you know,” she snapped.  “Doesn’t help if the man living in the shared room is so unfriendly no one wants to stay with him.”  Her words turned bitter as she folded her arms across her chest.  She couldn’t believe that Gray was so immature.

“Not my problem.”  He unknowingly mimicked her gesture and frowned.

She cocked an eyebrow and turned to face him.  “Will be if we raise your rent.”  Ann gave him a small smirk as she returned to the shrinking pile of unfolded laundry.

Gray sat up.  “Wh-what?!  You don’t have the authority to do that!”

_Did she?_

Her tone turned bitter.  “Well, if you have the shared room, and no one wants to share it with you, you should be paying the rate for a private suite, don’t you think?”  Her words were sharp as she added a pair of folded pants to the basket.

He had paid the same rate for a couple of years now.  Why did Cliff have to go and ruin everything?  If he didn’t have a roommate that was so hard to get along with, this wouldn’t even be an issue.  He frowned at Ann.  Why was she automatically taking Cliff’s side anyway?  “You’re just mad because you’ve got a crush on him!”  Gray tried to distract her.

Ann stared at him incredulously.  “What are you talking about?  I’ve only known the guy for _one_ _day!_ ”

He was determined to make her see that her threats of raising the rent were ungrounded and based on a biased opinion.  “Yeah, but you sure are friendly with him – asking him where he’s headed, worrying about him running into wild dogs…”  He raised his eyebrows. 

“There _are_ coyotes in those mountains!  He could seriously get hurt!”  Ann shot back, her face flushing with anger.  “Why are you being so immature?!”

“I bet you think he’s cute,” Gray pressed.  Whether she actually had feelings or not remained to be seen, but he had caught her giving interested glances in Cliff’s direction a few times this evening.

Ann’s cheeks turned as red as her hair.  “You’re impossible!”  She unceremoniously dumped the basket of carefully folded laundry on the floor.  If he didn’t care if his laundry was folded, why should she?  “If Cliff actually lasts a full month here with you, he deserves an award!”  She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Finally…”  Gray turned back to his book and let out a sigh.

The clock continued to tick loudly.  He kept reading the same sentence over and over.  The young man sighed in frustration as he put down the book and stared up at the ceiling.

Of course Ann didn’t understand.  She had a happy family and her father loved her.  His?  Not so much…  What was so wrong with wanting to be loved by the relatives that you actually had around, anyway?

“I hope he gets eaten by a damn coyote,” Gray muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Hopefully I was able to convey in this chapter that both guys are immature in their own way and how each of them sorts through (or doesn’t sort through) their own issues. I’m not sure what’s worse, someone losing their temper easily or someone who gives in at any sign of pressure. Thanks for reading!


	5. Warm Milk and Frigid Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the warm kindness from those running the inn, Cliff can't seem to run from the chill that the snowfall leaves in his heart.

It was a chilly walk home with damp hair, but he didn’t mind too much. He took his time getting back into town, a little anxious at what was awaiting him when he came into the room at the inn.  Cliff let out a sigh, his breath leaving puffs in the winter air.  Perhaps Gray saw him as little more than an inconvenience; it was more than apparent that he had acquired a certain standard of living having the place to himself and a new roommate was taking some getting used to. 

Cliff’s earlier confidence quickly melted as he crossed the vacant farm south of town. He was tempted to see if the doors to the empty buildings had been unlocked, but he stopped himself.  A pout crossed his mouth as he straightened his posture; he was a paying tenant and he needed to start acting like one.  The fact he had even considered sleeping in an abandoned house or barn over rooming with Gray made his face burn with embarrassment.

“Idiot…” He chided himself softly, his shoes moving quietly through the frosted grass.  He could try a bit harder to at least _act_ like he belonged there…  He was convinced not to run away again.  No more moving.  No more new villages.  This was the place he had yearned for, after all.  Still, the thought of actually living here frightened him quite a bit.  What if he managed to screw up again?  What if people simply didn’t like him?

He fruitlessly tried to push the negative thoughts from his mind as he opened the creaky oak door of Doug’s Inn. The proprietor of the establishment looked up from the bar and motioned for Cliff to come over.  He gulped, his knees going weak.  Perhaps he was in trouble for making this difficult for Gray earlier.  Maybe Doug was calling him over to evict him right now.

“Take a seat, kid. You’re as pale as death.”

Cliff frowned but found himself unable to disobey as he climbed on one of the stools. Ann bounded over from the kitchen, tension written across her face as she wrung her hands.

“You were gone for quite a while and it’s pretty late. I was starting to get concerned.”  Her voice was much less perky than usual.

Cliff stared at the pair in bewilderment. They didn’t know anything about him; why would they be worried about a stranger?  He nervously moved his eyes to the countertop.  It was likely they had called him over in hopes that he’d order something, but that really wasn’t in his plans.  While he had quite a bit of money saved up from the last summer and fall seasons, he wasn’t eager to spend it on anything other than rent and essentials.  He realized this was probably going to be a regular thing with them, as he was a paying guest.  Surely they expected him to be a steady customer for refreshments as well.  He wasn’t quite sure how to tell them that while a hot drink sounded lovely, he didn’t have the heart to dip into his savings for one.  He would probably just go back to his room and run the hot tap in the bathroom sink and have some hot water to drink; it wasn’t as if he lacked creativity.  He sunk in his seat a bit, embarrassed, unaware of the keen gaze the barkeeper had on him.

“Well, now that you know he’s back safe and sound, scoot on to bed, little lady.” Doug gave his daughter a hug around the shoulders and light kiss on top of the head before giving her a gentle nudge toward the kitchen.

She pouted in response. “You make it sound like I was sitting here all night biting my nails!  Honestly, Dad!”  She rolled her eyes at her father before giving Cliff a kind grin.  “Anyway, we’re glad you’re back.  Have a good night.”  She gave him a nod and swung open the kitchen door.  “And I’m taking the leftover French fries to my room!  Nighttime snack!”

“Fine…” Doug stirred a saucepan on a hotplate behind him and leaned forward on the counter, startling Cliff.  “When we found out we were having a daughter, I never would have guessed that I’d be getting a lifelong garbage disposal as well…”  The corners of his moustache turned up ever so slightly.  When the young man nervously looked up at him, he gave Cliff a warm smile that reminded him so much of his own father’s that it hurt.  Despite this, he found a slight comfort in it, which was more than he could say about most people for the past several years.  “So, Cliff-”

A voice echoed from the kitchen. “Oooh!  There’s leftover gravy in here!  I’m making poutine~!”

“Go for it, Ann! Just don’t stay up too late!” he hollered back at her.  He ladled some hot milk into a mug and spooned some honey into it, stirring the contents thoughtfully.  “Anyway… before we were interrupted, I was going to ask how you like your room so far.”

The steam rising from the mug only reminded Cliff how chilled he was as his damp hair touched the back of his neck. Afraid of being caught staring, he shyly looked down at his hands, rubbing them together in hopes that the feeling would come back to them.  “Oh, it’s n-nice,” he replied evasively.  “I, uh…  I slept pretty well.”

The ceramic mug was set in front of him and Cliff’s deep blue eyes widened in surprise and longing. “Well, I think with time, you’ll get to see what a nice place this town is.”  He gave his tenant a slight nod at the beverage.  When he scrambled to find some change in his pockets in response, Doug let out a good-natured chuckle.  “It’s on the house.”

He felt uneasy taking the offer; he had, after all, been given a free dinner the night before and didn’t want to come across as greedy. “Ah, are you sure?  I mean, I can-”

“I wouldn’t offer it to you if I didn’t want you to have it.” Doug hadn’t seen someone look so alone in a long time.  Cliff seemed more than just shy – he almost seemed like something was eating him from the inside and he didn’t know how to deal with it.  This was someone’s son, he realized with a wave of sympathy.  Did his parents know that their son’s default expression was worry?

“Th-thank you; you’re very generous…” He wrapped his hands around the warm mug and his tension began to relax a bit.  He timidly brought the mug to his lips and lightly blew on the surface before swallowing a bit.

His father was ruffling his hair as they all got up to unroll the sleeping furs, his mother collecting the empty mugs. The hearth was burning low and everyone would huddle together for warmth under the piles of animal furs.  Papa, Ma, him, and Ivy – always in the same order.  Everyone was clad in cozy pajamas and as the moon reflected off of the snow, Cliff didn’t really mind how cold out it was because he had warmth inside.  His mother would always scold him for coming to bed with his hair still tied back and would let it down for him, giving him a soft kiss on his temple before rolling over and saying good night.  A nine-year-old boy wasn’t supposed to like those kinds of things, he’d tell himself, but he’d always awake the next morning curled up in a warm ball against his mother’s side, the soft bear fur bundled around him.  As always, he had maneuvered just out of reach of his sister’s twitching limbs – she was a very vivid dreamer...

“Nostalgic, isn’t it?” Doug’s voice startled Cliff from his reverie.

“Huh?” His voice was low as he looked up from his mug, his eyes wide.  Part of him wondered if he could read minds.

A smirk played at Doug’s lips. Cliff seemed quite unaware of his milk moustache and instead of a serious, nervous man, he almost looked like a child.

“A warm mug of milk and honey late at night. I used to give Ann some when she had trouble sleeping as a kid.  She still drinks it sometimes, although she doesn’t get nightmares anymore.”

Cliff gave a slight nod, refusing to show any emotion. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous; his nightmares only seemed to be increasing lately.  He turned back to his mug and took a small sip.  Maybe this would work as a cure for him, too.  “You and Ann are very close,” he observed, the words leaving his mouth before he really gave much thought to them.  He flinched a bit at the fact that he had contributed to the conversation; he wasn’t really in the mood for talking about what a terrible son he was…

“She’s my partner in crime. We’re best friends, rivals, each other’s guinea pigs and karaoke partners, not to mention coworkers.  I wouldn’t have it any other way, though.  She’s a great gal and I wish I could give the world to her.”  His honey brown eyes lit up as his eyes flicked to a photograph tacked up behind the bar of him and his late wife, who was holding a squirming infant with red fuzz on the top of her head.  “Ah, she was such a handful when she was little… still kind of is,” he admitted with a chuckle.

While Ann only came up to his shoulder, Cliff didn’t think of Ann as particularly small; her personality more than made up for her shorter stature. “L-little?”

The man roared with laughter and slapped the bar’s counter in response, causing Cliff to jolt in his seat. “I meant she’s still a handful, kid.  Guess that milk is doing its job, huh?”

 _Growing strong bones?_ He tilted his head and looked at Doug blankly, blinking his heavy eyelids, a little afraid to ask what he meant.

It appeared that Cliff was too sleepy to understand. Doug bit back another laugh; he had seen Ann in that state enough to recognize it.  “I have a feeling you’ll sleep well tonight.”  He gave his new tenant a wink as he retrieved the empty mug from him.

As he bade him goodnight and dragged his feet up the stairs to the shared suite, Cliff prayed that Doug’s prediction was right.

0o0o0o0

Cliff turned the key in the lock and twisted the doorknob as quietly as he could. The door opened with a soft creak.

The room was dark and he was greeted with a low, rumbling snore. He had been dwelling on their earlier conversation, yet he hadn’t really prepared any comebacks to any snarky remarks he was expecting to be thrown at him.  A wave of relief washed over him as he realized that Gray was in a deep sleep.  Hopefully by morning, he will have forgotten how angry he was, and maybe he would even apologize.  Cliff shook his head as he removed his coat and shoes; it never did well to expect apologies from someone who didn’t want to give them.  He wondered if he should try to say he was sorry again about tonight and decided against it.  His earlier attempts hadn’t been fruitful and it might frustrate Gray to bring up the subject again.  Maybe it would be best to just forget the whole thing.

As Cliff eased onto the mattress, it let out a loud squeak and his heart stopped for a moment. He held his breath, praying that he hadn’t awakened Gray. 

He heard shifting on the far side of the room and he mumbled. “Damn bastard…”

Cliff’s blood ran cold, and it wasn’t from the chilly bed sheets. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten at all.  He knew that he had made Gray upset tonight, but he was a little disturbed that he was still so angry.  Unsure of what to do, Cliff froze in silence under his covers. 

“Your number’s up…” Gray’s muffled voice spoke into his pillow.  “Monster…”

His words seemed a bit extreme for the situation, and he was debating what to say about it, if anything at all. Cliff fought with himself; it would be so much easier to acquiesce to Gray and choke down his own hurt feelings.  However, things would further be simplified for his roommate if Cliff simply left.  He shook his head at how unfair it all was.  _Why am I not allowed to have a home, too? Probably because I threw away the one that I had been given…_   It was pure selfishness to believe he was allowed to have another because of his own foolish mistakes.

“… Die… Master D…” Gray rolled over with a light snore.

Embarrassment covered Cliff like a cold blanket. He was always thinking only of himself.  He hadn’t even considered the thought that Gray might be mumbling while dreaming.  Silently cursing himself over and over for his stupidity, he closed his eyes and prayed patiently for sleep to come sooner than later.  His body was exhausted, but he knew all too well that didn’t guarantee anything.

0o0o0o0

He felt the familiar warmth of her hand on his wrist.

“You ready, Bro?” She winked at him, bobbing her head, the feathers and beads in her hair flailing about.  Her deep blue eyes that so resembled his own were playful and lively, as they often were.

“Ha, always!” Cliff gave her a grin; he had become pretty adept at feigning excitement over the years, but it felt genuine tonight.  He offered her his arm and they made their way in front of the stage, familiar with the sea of eyes watching them.

A middle-aged woman with the same long brown hair and blue eyes nodded at them from her platform with a proud smile. She opened her mouth and sang, and a genuine happiness filled his heart; he always forgot how lovely his mother’s voice was.

Her eyes moved to Cliff and he entered the song at his appointed time, harmonizing his voice with hers. Thankfully his voice change had been a relatively smooth transition, and his mother often showered him with praise and vocal exercises, gushing that his voice was more beautiful than before, having comfortably settled into a warm tenor by the time he reached fourteen.  His gaze traveled to a group of new hunters and he had to force himself to keep from smirking.  Why he had always wished he was sitting in the place of honor?  The young men were seated together in a group, talking and laughing with one another.  They were happy, but he was happier.  He was where he belonged and didn’t need their approval.  Why had he never thought of it that way before?

He moved automatically to the music, and realized he didn’t have to swallow down his jealousy the way he used to. It was incredibly freeing.  He allowed himself to stop looking at the audience and focused on the melody.  The taiko joined in, and the group formed a circle, hunters included.  That hollow feeling inside him was gone – he was dancing with his sister and singing with his mother, and the entire village was celebrating with him.

The girl twirled her yukata with a flourish as they bowed, the song ending and another one starting. “I’m on it tonight, eh, Bro?  We’ve got everyone fired up!  Someday I might get to be as good as you!”

“You do just fine,” he gave her a kind smile. “You always will, Sis.”

“Will I?” She threw her arms around him.

He often shrugged off her hugs, afraid that the other boys in the village would tease him. However, tonight, he was more than happy to be near her and didn’t care what anyone thought.  He looked around him in surprise as she stepped back from the embrace; the stage was empty, the square was abandoned and dilapidated.  There was no music playing, and heavy snowflakes fell on his shoulders.  His head began to spin and his blood ran cold.  Had any of the festival actually happened?

“ _Will_ I do just fine, Cliff?”  Her whole face frowned.  “Ma didn’t do _just fine_ …”  She stared meaningfully back at the empty stage.  Tears ran down her face.  “Why?  Why did you leave?”

Her words cut just as much as they did in her letter. He wracked his brain for a reason that would satisfy her.  _Why did he leave? There were too many reasons…_   “I-I didn’t have a choice,” he stammered, wringing his hands nervously.  “I-I wasn’t… helping anyone by staying.  I needed to make myself useful to everyone…”

She snorted. “You are such a liar!  If you wanted to be useful, you shouldn’t have left in the first place!” she yelled, stamping her geta in the packed down dirt.  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.  At her cold gaze, he felt his heart break all over again.  “What good did you end up doing anyone by pulling that stupid stunt?  That’s right, none!  Dammit, Cliff, you’re the most selfish person I know!” she spat, whirling around with a groan in exasperation.

Their mother had always hated it when she swore, but it seemed she wasn’t around anymore to stop her… His heart sunk – he really was the worst and he dwelled on that thought every single day…  “I-I…  I know…”  His voice cracked as he blinked away the tears that threatened to form in his eyes.  “I screwed up…”  He stared up at the falling snowflakes.  If he could take it all away, he would in a heartbeat…

“That’s a light way of putting it,” she began to walk away.

“Ivy, wait!” He tried to chase after her, but his legs were frozen and he couldn’t move.  “S-Sis!”  He knew that in her stubbornness, it wasn’t likely she would come back, but his heart filled with dread.  What if she never turned back around?  Would he forget what that face looked like, what her voice sounded like?

“Don’t call me that,” she continued to walk away, the sound of her geta fading into the night. “I’m ashamed to call you my brother.”  She vanished into the falling snow.

He burst into tears and hugged his arms, sobbing freely; the cold cut right through his festival garb, but the chill paled in comparison to the way his heart felt… He had asked for this, after all.  He had to live with the consequences of his actions.  But how would he have known…?  He shook his head.  That was the problem; he hadn’t thought at all…

“H… Hey…”

Cliff snapped awake as he felt someone shaking his shoulder rather roughly. “Wake up, man…”  Gray’s voice was groggy.  “You okay?”  He was dangerously close to sounding like he cared.

“I-I’m fine…” He sat up in bed and blinked his eyes tiredly, realizing right away that his cheeks were covered in tears again.  He was grateful for the darkness of the room as he quickly brushed them away.  He often tried not to think too deeply on his annoying habit of waking up crying a few times a week, but now that he had to share a living space, he didn’t want to subject someone else to it.  He was going to have to get that habit under control.  “I-I’m s-sorry I woke you.”

Gray shifted uncomfortably, the floorboards squeaking beneath him. He hadn’t heard a grown man sob like that since he was a teenager, and it didn’t bring back pleasant memories.  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what had disturbed Cliff so much.  He didn’t even know the guy, but the sound of his cries was heart wrenching.  “Eh, don’t worry about it.  Bad dream?  I have some books over on the table if you want to stay up and read for a while to calm down.”  An exhausted Gray went back to his bed, eager to go back to sleep, but even more eager to give Cliff his space.  He never knew how to comfort people when they were upset; he was often more harm than help.

 _Calm down?_ _How hard had I been crying?_ His face felt hot with embarrassment.  “A-again…  I’m r-really sorry…”  He was suddenly aware how sore his throat was, likely from sobbing, and he wished he could find a hole to hide in.

Gray grunted and threw the covers back over himself. “Hey.  I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.  Hopefully that will help you sleep better…”  He couldn’t help but wonder if he had contributed to the problem.  Half-awake, Gray realized that their whole confrontation earlier that evening didn’t even seem like a big deal anymore.

“Uh…” Cliff wasn’t sure how to respond to this.  He was so humiliated at crying in front of him that he didn’t know how he was going to face Gray in the morning.  As he quietly laid back down trying to think of a reply, he stared up at the ceiling.  His whole mind felt muddled.

He was startled by a loud snore on the opposite side of the room. Cliff felt a rush of jealousy; sleep rarely came to him easily.  The young man looked out the window and sat on the sill, his lungs deflating.  Sure enough, large flakes were falling down from the sky.  He reached into his bag and pulled out an old battered photograph, staring at it by the light of the moon.  He likely wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, and he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to; vivid dreaming ran in the family, after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the next few chapters I have before too long so that this will be up-to-date. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading along! :D


	6. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gray reflects on his past and feels conflicted about his increasing desire to comfort his roommate.

Gray felt his eyes flutter open as his hand flew to the alarm clock the moment it went off, hoping it hadn’t woken his roommate. He looked on the opposite side of the room to see if Cliff had stirred.  The young man was sitting on the wide windowsill, his cheek pressed against the foggy window.  He was obviously out cold, but Gray couldn’t think of a more uncomfortable sleeping position.

He rolled his eyes as he got dressed; it was highly likely that Cliff hadn’t intended to fall asleep there. He wondered if he should try to wake him before he headed out for work but decided against it.  Gray could sense the deep shame in Cliff’s apologies the night before and he probably didn’t want to talk to him.  However, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that caused him to walk back over to the sleeping young man and take a closer look to make sure that he was indeed alright.

Carefully stepping over toward him, he noticed a tattered photograph in his limp hand. Curiosity getting the better of him, Gray slipped it out from Cliff’s fingers and took a look at it in the winter sunrise; the sun’s rays beaming off of the fresh carpet of snow provided plenty of light.  The teenage boy in the photo was obviously Cliff – the image didn’t look much different other than looking a bit younger.  He was standing with what looked like a twin sister and an older woman that shared the same features.  The three were clad in yukatas and they were posing in front of some large drums at a festival.  The photo itself had seen better days; the image had faded and the corners were frayed.  It couldn’t be more evident that this was an object Cliff handled quite a bit.  Gray recalled thinking that he didn’t want to get involved with Cliff’s personal life and felt a mild wave of sadness.  It couldn’t be more obvious to him that Cliff was a terribly lonely person, and he hadn’t been exactly welcoming to him…

Gray set the photograph down on the table with a frown. The sound of Cliff’s sobbing in his sleep was still fresh in his ears and it haunted him a bit.  He leaned on the wall near the windowsill and watched the young man sleep.  The dark circles he had seen under Cliff’s eyes were more apparent in the sunlight and he got the feeling that he often had trouble sleeping.  He wasn’t likely going to stay sleeping much longer in such a chilly spot.  Gray’s gaze traveled to the covers on Cliff’s bed and he pulled the quilt off of the mattress, gently laying it on top of him.  He held his breath as he saw him stir slightly.  Gray pulled the blanket over his chest, tucking it around his shoulders.  When he finished, he looked at Cliff with a strange sense of satisfaction as he held the far corner of the soft quilt in his hands.

He was suddenly at his old home in the city, his head in his mother’s lap. He could still feel her slim pale fingers running through his hair as she softly hummed a melody to soothe him.  He closed his eyes, her gentle massaging helping him forget the nagging ache in his body.  Her song combined with the gentle pattering of the raindrops on the windowpanes provided him with enough distraction.

“How’s the little guy doing, Feena?” He could hear his father’s gentle voice as he heard the door to their apartment softly close.

Gray struggled to sit up in his presence. His mother let out a soft chuckle and smoothed down his wild red hair as he shifted the soft blanket that had been thrown across him, tossing his baseball cap back on his head.  “I-I’m fine!  Hi, Dad!”

The man knelt down by the couch and gave him a sad smile. “Hey, Gray.  Have you been able to move around much today?”

The boy remained silent as the color faded from his face. He knew that his answer would not make his father happy as he had been confined to the couch for most of the day.  It hadn’t been for lack of trying, though.  He had tripped in the living room earlier and cried loudly, half in frustration and half in pain.

“Things will get better,” Feena’s gentle words filled Gray with relief that he didn’t have to admit his lack of activity that day. “It just acts up a bit when the weather is like this; the doctors warned us that this could happen.  And like they said, the pain should fade more with time.”

Her husband’s mouth was drawn into a tight line. “A boy his age shouldn’t have to worry about old injuries acting up with the weather.  It’s not right!”  He slammed his fist on the coffee table and furrowed his brow.  “If it wasn’t for my stupid, preoccupied, irresponsible fath-”

Feena’s pale blue eyes flashed dangerously at her husband. “Airu, not now!”

Gray shrank back at his parents’ words, swallowing the lump in his throat and struggling to blink back tears. He hadn’t meant to make them upset.  “I…  I _said_ I was fine!”  Eager to see them smile again, the seven-year-old forced himself to stand and bit back a cry as his knee jabbed with searing pain.  He stubbornly walked across the living room, his cheeks damp as his eyes watered.

To his surprise, he could see his father’s eyes becoming misty as he snatched him up, holding him by the armpits before hugging him to his chest.

“You don’t have to prove anything. We love you just the same, son.”

His way of saying those words made Gray’s worries dissolve. He threw his arms around his father’s neck and wept bitterly, forgetting that he wanted to prove to him that he could be a mature boy that could handle his own emotions.  Suddenly, making him proud didn’t seem so important; his father’s words were giving him permission to hand over all of his burdens.

His mouth began to move faster than his mind. “I-I was over at Kasey’s and Mom went over to pick me up because my knee was really hurting and I couldn’t walk.  Then I fell in the living room and it really hurt!  I haven’t been able to move all day!  None of my friends are going to want to play with me anymore because I can’t run as fast as I used to…”  He let out a small wail at this realization, fear falling over him like a cold damp blanket.  “Wh-what if Kasey doesn’t think I’m fun anymore?  What if no one wants to play with me?  I-I’m going to be all alone!”

He felt his mother hug him from behind as the parents enveloped their child in an embrace together. “Oh, Grayson sweetie, Kasey still likes you.  You just need to let this leg heal a bit more.”

He wiped his eyes on his father’s necktie. “I haven’t gotten to really run since last summer!  I’m going to be alone forever!” he sniffed miserably and felt a flash of guilt as his father’s body stiffened at the admission of how slow his recovery had been.

His mother leaned into him a bit more and she carefully took him from her husband’s arms, trying her best not to upset his leg. “You and Kasey have been friends since kindergarten.”  She felt him shiver with cold as the rain hit the side of the house noisily.  Feena gently laid her son down on the couch and pulled the soft blanket over him.  “You’ll never be alone, my sweet Grayson.”  She pulled off his baseball cap and set it on the arm of the couch, leaning over to give her son a kiss.

His eyes flicked to his father and he quickly wiped his mouth with a scowl. “Aw, c’mon, Mom!  That’s gross!”  He pulled the blanket over his head, his cheeks warm as he heard his parents softly chuckle in response.  He fought the smile creeping across his face as he reflected on the warmth he felt with his parents.

_I’ll never be alone…_

Gray blinked as he snapped out of his reverie, staring down at the corner of the quilt in his hands. The cover was slowly moving up and down as Cliff breathed deeply, his exhales fogging up the window.  Gray studied him closely; when Cliff’s face wasn’t etched with worry or pain, he looked quite a bit younger than his declared twenty-three years.  His eyes traveled to the photograph once more.  His brown hair was a little longer and his face had lost its juvenile roundness, but at the moment he looked like a child propped up against the window.

Gray let go of the corner of the blanket, his heart overcome with a strange wistfulness. He tucked the blankets more snugly around Cliff.  He could still hear his mother’s humming in his mind as if she were singing to him right now.  He couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but a frown soon found its way onto his face.  If his mother was no longer around to comfort him, why should he dote on Cliff?  He tore his eyes away from him as he spun on his heel.  In doing so, a dull ache rose in his right knee and he stifled a frustrated groan.  The temperature must have risen with the sun; the snow was likely to turn into rain.  His gaze flicked back to Cliff, this time a mild wave of annoyance flowing through him.  Why had he been thinking that he was any sort of his responsibility?  It wasn’t as if he was his son. 

_He’s not my problem. I have enough of my own to bother worrying about him.  He can sort out his own problems, just like I’ve always had to._

Gray tugged his cap over his face and hurried out the door, nearly colliding with Ann at the bottom of the stairs.

“Whoawhoawhoa! What are _you_ doing up so early?”  He was given a suspicious stare as she circled him curiously.

He rolled his eyes at her and led the way to the bar and let out a sigh as he took a seat on one of the stools. “I have something called an apprenticeship, in case you haven’t forgotten.”

She bounded behind the counter, pouring him a mug of black coffee with a flourish. “Yeah, yeah…”  Her eyebrows were still furrowed despite her playful tone.  “So, what’ll it be?  Biscuits?  Eggs?  I’ve been practicing my omelettes, or there’s French toast.  Maybe some natto?”  She gave him a smirk and giggled when she saw him cringe his nose at the last suggestion.

“Got any biscuits and gravy this morning?” He was looking forward to something warm and soothing, bracing himself for the change in weather.

“Ah, comfort food.” She whirled on her heel and popped her head into the kitchen to give her father the order.  She returned behind the counter and watched Gray sip at his coffee.  “So…”  She began putting away some glasses to keep herself occupied.  “Did you talk to Cliff?  Did you guys patch things up?”

Gray set down his mug and stared at the wood grain on the bar counter. He wasn’t sure what terms the two were on right now.  Cliff was quite unstable emotionally – when he wasn’t busy overly humbling himself in a painfully awkward attempt to make nice, he seemed to almost be afraid of others.  On top of that, there was the whole episode with his nightmares the night before.  Why did he get the feeling this was a regular thing for him?  Did Gray even want to get involved with someone like him?  It wasn’t as if he was good with emotional matters; it often seemed like the more he tried to help, the worse he made things.

“Well?” He looked up and saw a mild shade of annoyance on Ann’s face as she tapped her fingers on the countertop impatiently.

He didn’t really feel that it was his place to tell her what had happened the night before. While they hadn’t spoken about their issues, Gray couldn’t help but feel a little closer to Cliff now than he did when he was angry with him.  Stating that he had nightmares not only seemed like a huge violation to his privacy, but it implied that Gray had something to do with it.  He bit his lip; maybe he had been part of the cause.  After all, they had gotten along just fine the night before…  He furrowed his eyebrows as an uneasiness came down on him at this realization.

“Gray…” She slid him his plate of food and folded her arms across her chest.  “So did you or did you not talk to him?”

His emotions were immediately replaced with irritation as he took his fork in his hand and quickly cut a bite of biscuit, eager to fill his mouth so he wouldn’t have to speak. Even if he told her that he had been sleeping when Cliff returned the night before, he had a feeling Ann wouldn’t be satisfied with this answer.  She became so unbearably nosy when it came to other peoples’ affairs.  “That’s none of your damn business.”

She slammed her fist on the counter, rattling his plate and coffee mug. “What kind of answer is that?!  If I found out you were cruel to him-”

“Back off!” Gray interrupted, his mouth full. “You’re not our babysitter, so stop acting like it.”

She stamped her foot and growled in exasperation. “You’re very lucky Dad’s cooking today, otherwise I might have added a secret ingredient to your sausage gravy!”

He was surprised that she was so openly angry while on the job. “You wouldn’t have the guts,” he sneered.

“Try me.” She glowered at him across the counter, her bright blue eyes meeting his icy ones.  They were the same ones he had glared at over the years over missing laundry, stolen cookies, damaged comic books, cheating at video games, and intense staring contests.

A stool to the left of Gray screeched across the floor and the local pastor pulled himself on top of it, casting the two a serene smile as he brushed the heavy snowflakes off of his shoulders. “It sure is starting to come down out there again.  It’s melting as soon as it hits the ground, though.  No doubt Stu and May will still want to try to make a snowman.”  He let out a good-natured chuckle as he removed his black felt hat and set it on the stool between him and Gray.

Ann immediately stopped leering over the table at him and turned toward her new guest. “Good morning.  What can I get you, Carter?”  She already began to shuffle through the assortment of tea bags behind the bar.

“Some Earl Grey would be fantastic.” He rubbed his hands together and blew on them to warm them.  “I also think something cozy is in order.  Beans on toast, please.”

Steaming hot water was poured over the teabag and slid toward the priest along with a sugar bowl and spoon. “Coming right up.”

“Ah, no hurry. I have something hot to thaw my hands out on now, so feel free to take your time.”  He gave her a lighthearted grin as he wrapped his fingers around the mug.

“Alright,” Ann returned the smile despite her urge to throw some water in Gray’s face. She disappeared into the kitchen, eager to be away from him.

The next few minutes of silence were tense for Gray. He was waiting for Carter to scold him for arguing with Ann; he was a priest, after all.  Wasn’t that what priests did?  Maybe he’d mention that he hadn’t seen Gray at service lately.  He only showed up occasionally, and if he was completely honest about it, his reason for attending was so that he could listen to Mary playing the organ.  As far as he was concerned, there were too many people in his life already telling him how he needed to conduct himself.  He kept his mouth full in an effort to avoid conversation.

Carter gently tugged on the string of his teabag, sending a waft of floral bergamot across the room. He watched the rich brown clouds take over the inside of his mug with satisfaction.  He lightly bounced the bag in the water as he scooped himself a spoon of sugar and added it to the brew, looking over at his companion.  Gray almost looked like he had something on his mind; perhaps he wanted someone to talk to.

“Nothing like a hot drink to get you going on a cold day like today, huh?” He inhaled the steam, letting out a satisfied sigh.  “You know, I’ve had this strange feeling that I should come to the inn for the past couple of days, almost like a force is pulling me here, but I’ve only now been able to tear myself away from my work to come.”  He paused and took a taste of his tea, deciding it was too hot.  “I think it was for the best, though.  You see, young Stu is having a hard time.  He’s beginning to resent his sister’s job at the hospital because she’s not around home as much.  And poor Elli – she’s just trying to take care of her family.  She has a much larger burden than most people do at her age.  I’ve been spending a lot of time at the family’s house.”

Gray was friends with the nurse; she was particularly close with Mary. He swallowed his bite of biscuit and speared another piece, swirling it in the gravy.  “Well, part of the problem is that she worries too much about Doctor Trent, even outside of work.  He’s an adult and can take care of himself.”  He stared at the food on his fork thoughtfully before popping it into his mouth.

Carter idly stirred his tea, a smile returning to his lips. “When you genuinely care about someone, it can be a little hard to stay out of their business, even if you know better.”  He let out a gentle chuckle as he heard the kitchen door swing open, revealing a much cheerier-looking Ann carrying a plate of food.

“Here you are, Carter! Enjoy your breakfast!”  She placed the steaming plate in front of him and gave him a bright grin.  Her eyes flew to the kitchen door and her smile faded as she turned to Gray.  There was a long, awkward silence and for a moment, he wondered if she was going to say anything at all.  “Hey… sorry for giving you the third degree earlier.”

He blinked in surprise; she rarely apologized so soon after their little tiffs. His eyes drifted toward the kitchen door and he understood.  After all, beans and toast took next to no time to assemble; he knew they kept a warm pot of them available most mornings.  They had been back there together for a while.  His anger melted as a smirk found its way on his mouth.  It was apparent Doug had heard them yelling and had given his daughter a lecture.  Ann did have a tendency to get too involved with his life.

He thought of the young girl with the slightly abrasive yet endearing laugh that hunted for beetles and four-leaved clovers with him in the vacant lot beside the forge. Afternoons spent throwing rocks in the river and spitting contests.  Shared stale candy that had been hoarded inside her piggy bank for special occasions.  Stomping in rain puddles and digging in the mud after a summer downpour.  That same familiar hug every time they came to visit and those large watery eyes when it was time to go. 

She had always been a part of his life. Did he really want it any other way?  The smug look on his face faded as he wiped his mouth and stood up.  “Thanks for breakfast.”  He pulled his cap over his eyes and stood up, nodding goodbye to Carter.  He opened the door to the inn and looked out at the morning snow, a mild breeze blowing in his face as he was assaulted by large wet snowflakes.  He turned back around and looked over at Ann, who had lifted her head from her focus on Carter.  “I’m… trying with him.”  Gray cocked his head toward the stairwell.  “I… I can’t promise anything will happen overnight.”  He hesitated, remembering the resentment he felt at the slight warmth he felt in his heart when he looked at Cliff.  “And… I can’t promise we’ll end up best friends or anything, either.”

This unexpected and honest statement released Ann’s anger. The strain melted from her expression as she gave him a kind smile, noticing the color that had appeared on his cheeks.  “Have a good day at work, Gray.  I’ll make sure baked corn is on the menu tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Phew! I haven’t written much about Gray’s back story in any of my works yet despite brainstorming about it a lot. Feels good to get a little bit of it out there. His mother is Irish and his father is half Japanese and half Dutch. Will any of that ever be important to the storyline? Probably not, but I’ve figured out his family tree far more than is appropriate, including names. His mother is named after Feena from Grandia, haha. Man, I love that game. I also see him as having a sibling-like bond with Ann – I’m pretty bummed out they weren’t related after HM N64 so I write them as practically brother and sister.
> 
> Yes, Gray was childhood friends with the protagonist from Animal Parade. Why not?
> 
> Thank you everyone for providing feedback. I hope y’all enjoy this chapter as well. :)


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